


One step at a time

by arianatnt321



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Recovery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22152679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arianatnt321/pseuds/arianatnt321
Summary: In a world were Hermione Granger and George Weasley started dating on her fourth year, Hermione isn't sure if her boyfriend will be able to survive the loss of his twin, Fred Weasley. To make things worse, Hermione can't help being haunted by the idea that it would have been better if she'd died instead of him...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/George Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	One step at a time

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So, I've been telling myself I needed to post a story here for over two years and I've finally had the guts to do it, yay!  
> I've always wondered how losing Fred would impact George and how he'd be able to carry on after the war, what with how symbiotic their relationship was. I tired to put myself in his and Hermione's place and imagine how they'd work through their grief. I've thankfully never lost a loved one before, but I hope I managed to do grief and mourning their due justice.  
> Oh, I'm also sorry for any mistakes in the writing. <3 
> 
> Many thanks to @RavenSnowStar94 foi being an awesome beta and friend!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, all rights reserve to J.K Rowling.  
> (If I did, Sirius, Remus, Tonks and most definietly Fred, would all be alive.)

Hermione lay in her bed at the burrow, Ginny sleeping in the bed next to her. Almost three weeks had gone by since the war had ended and she still felt like she was living inside a dream that could end at any moment. Snatchers could show up at any moment now and drag her back to Malfoy Manor, Hermione kept thinking. 

She used the only coping mechanism she had come up with since that fateful afternoon at that damn manor, she dug her nails as hard as she could in her arm, hard enough to hurt and ground her, but not hard enough to leave a mark and alert anyone else. 

The man she loved so much that she’d felt a constant ache in her chest ever since she was forced to leave him behind while searching for horcruxes, lay in his dead brother’s bed a few doors down. So close, and yet she’d never felt as far away from him as she did now.

They said goodbye the night before Bill and Fleur’s wedding, fully aware that they might not get to see each other again. All she had of him for an entire year were messages he sent to her via radio, his twin making a joke about lovesick teenagers in the middle of a war whenever possible, making her giggle and hopeful that they’d be alright when all this ended. 

Then, the unthinkable had happened and Hermione and George had survived, but Fred hadn’t. A world in which George lived without Fred and vice versa was so unbelievable she had never thought it impossible, even when it popped into her mind late at night she had believed that out of all of the people to take away from George, the powers that be wouldn’t be so vicious as to take Fred. 

George could get through anything with Fred there. 

It had been a week since the end of the war and George hadn’t spoken to her yet. He had held onto her as he sobbed over where Fred’s body lay on the cold and harsh stone floor of the Great Hall.

Just another casualty. Just one more.

She had cried with him, staring at her brother in law, as he always called himself, not comprehending why he was so serious, surely he would smile even in death? Fred was always smiling, it was what he did. No one really knew this, but between the two of them George was the maudlin one, if she had to compare. 

Since then George was only a shadow of himself, a zombie, as Muggles would say. He had barely managed to go to Fred’s funeral two days ago without taking a large dose of calming draught, which Bill had practically forced down his throat, telling him he would regret it if he didn’t say goodbye. 

Hermione visited his room everyday as did Mrs. Weasley. They forced George to eat and tried to get some air and light into the room. George just lay there, in Fred’s bed, not answering them. 

Yesterday afternoon, during one of those visits, Hermione had told him she loved him quietly but audibly and when no answer came she found herself trembling, it started in her fingertips and grew worse, until she trembled silently all over. When Mrs. Weasley walked in trying to be cheerful, she stared at Hermione, who was merely standing there trembling, before she put her arm around her, saying something about needing help in the kitchen. 

As soon as they were out of ear shot, Mrs Weasley had enveloped Hermione in a hug and Hermione crumpled, crying into her shoulder desperately, while her surrogate mother tried to reassure her with hopeful words.

“George used to listen to anything Ron ever told us about you since you were in your first year, dear. When you started dating in your fourth year, I swear I have never seen him happier in my life.” She chuckled lightly. “F-Fred would tease him mercilessly whenever he got a letter from you.” 

At that, Hermione cried harder, which had seemed impossible a moment ago.  
“We have to talk about him until it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. I won’t forget my son.” Mrs Weasley told her, her voice strong even through her own tears. It was one of the first things Hermione had been told about grief that made sense. She nodded and pushed away slightly. 

“I’m scared I’ll lose George too, i’ve tried to but I can’t reach him.” Hermione explained. 

Mrs. Weasley nodded her eyes full of understanding. “If anyone has a chance of helping my George through this, it’s you Hermione.” 

Hermione nodded slightly, lost in thought. “Mrs. Weasley, do you think I'm being selfish?” She asked. 

Mrs. Weasley looked a bit puzzled. “I’m sorry dear, but what could you possibly mean by that?” 

Hermione hiccuped through a sigh. “It hasn’t been a week since the battle, shouldn’t I be trying to be more accepting of George’s grief, maybe?” She asked, brows furrowed in confusion. 

Mrs. Weasley, though, merely sighed and looked at her knowingly. “Hermione, if anything you’re being too selfless. It scares us and hurts to see the ones we love hurting and you have your own burdens to carry. I can’t sit by and watch my son suffer this way, just as how I see how all of you are suffering.” Mrs. Weasley paused for a moment. “I cook. I make sure my children are fed and always know they can come to me if they need too. And every day, three times a day, I go into George’s room and I smile and make sure he has what he needs until he’s ready to come out.” 

Hermione nodded, understanding her completely. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I think I really needed that.” She had given this strong woman in front of her a tiny smile. 

“You’re welcome dear.” Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. She turned around to head into her room but she stopped and looked back at Hermione again, her tiny smile reminded  
Hermione of the Twins in it’s mischievousness. “Oh, and I'd stop calling me Mrs. Weasley now, Hermione. Even with all that’s happened, I still give it one or two years until we share a last name.” She chuckled to herself and left, leaving a gaping and slightly still tearful Hermione behind. 

Now, a thought that had been trying to break into Hermione’s head since she saw Fred lying on the floor and George crying mange to come through suddenly and Hermione lost her breath, bolting upright and leaving her and Ginny’s room as quietly as she could. She barely noticed where she was going, but it was to no surprise to her when she found herself walking into George’s room. 

He had his back to her, facing the wall as a single finger drew patterns against the wall. She also wasn’t surprised he was awake now, it was just past one in the morning and George had always been more nocturnal. Hermione also figured that since he slept a lot through the day he might not be tired enough to sleep. 

She stood there, not sure about what she should do or say. Shaking the feeling, she continued as she normally would.

“George...I..um..couldn’t sleep and thought I'd come here.” Hermione stated quietly and awkwardly. When she saw that his movement stopped for a moment then picked up again, she felt confident enough to sit beside him, a hand caressing his hair softly. 

“I’m going to do what you did for me all those I needed you, ok?” Hermione sated, more than she asked. All she wanted was to be there for him, to help him through this. 

Quickly, before she lost her nerve, Hermione lay herself down behind George, for the first time in three years she was the “big spoon”. Her cheek resting against his neck and an arm around his waist, holding him as close as he had held her countless times. 

At first, she felt George tense slightly, but she waited, hopeful that he’d let her stay like that. After a few minutes, she felt him relax completely even leaning against her a bit. Hermione’s heart soared and so she started talking. 

“Your mom, which I know you don’t usually listen too, said something that made a lot of sense to me. I’m just going to talk because that’s what I'm good at, and you don’t have to do anything but listen.” She even felt George nod a tiny bit and thought a miracle was happening. 

She hoped she didn’t ruin it, sending a silent prayer to Fred. 

Hermione talked quietly, laughing when she felt like it and stopping to cry when she needed too. George mainly cried through it, though she thought she felt a strained silent chuckle against her body once. She talked about when she met the twins, and how she instantly thought they were both cute. By the end of her first year she had noticed George had a freckle next to his right eye that Fred did not. Or how Fred’s hair stuck more in the back that George’s, little details that made it easy for her to tell them apart. 

She told George about how much she wanted to punch Fred every time he looked at her knowingly and smirked whenever he caught her staring at George. She told George about how grateful he was he’d heard her out when she was stressed over her exams in her third year, that one time she cried from the pressure. Or when he listened to her rant about Ron being stupid and her worrying over Harry’s safety in their fourth year. 

When he told her the boys would be lost without her and that she had a big heart, it had been the first time she felt acknowledged. Hermione told him how much she appreciated that whenever George and Fred saw her sitting quietly by herself they’d strike up a conversation, in which Fred always found a reason to sneak off. She noticed what he was doing after a while and always gave him a grateful smile. 

Hermione told a trembling George, how much she liked discussing the theory behind their pranks with both of them, when she secretly admitted to thinking their inventions were brilliant, if there testing methods a bit immoral. They responded to her seriously once, saying that if they truly believed the younger kids would be harmed they wouldn’t do it and that they tested the products on themselves first everytime. She’d even helped both of them figure out a better recipe for a potion one or twice, remembering how she loved when they both kissed her cheek at the same time, even though she always complained. 

After the Yule Ball, Hermione had been sitting sadly by herself, crying, and Fred had found her. She had to stop longer to get her bearings with that memory. He had all but dragged her to where George was waiting for him, and the three of them threw a basic prank on Filch, before Fred left to find Angelina, supposedly. 

That night George had kissed her for the first time, and they had never looked back. She admitted to George that the next time she caught Fred alone she gave him a huge hug and thanked him. 

“He gave me the most Fred responde possible, stating that he clearly thought I was settling for the uglier twin but he respected my choices. We laughed a bit and then he got a bit more serious, said we both deserve each other and that I made you happy.” She paused, chuckling. “Did you know he gave me the brother speech? He said that since you were his twin he had to tell me that if I hurt you he’d prank me for the rest of my life. Then, he said he’d do the same if you hurt me, because he thought of me as a l-little s-sister.” Hermione managed to say. 

Suddenly, George turned in her arms, using her chest as a pillow and cried harder. 

She went on and on about how in her fifth year they had been a big part of what kept her together, through her fear of Voldemort and anger at Umbridge. George, especially, always making her laugh and applauding her idea of creating the DA. She was sad when she learned George and Fred were leaving but she understood and in the end he had been right, she’d barely had time to miss him because he broke into the school to see her every week, especially on weekends. 

She told George she remembered every moment of their first time together during her sixth year, every touch and every whisper and that she used that memory to create her Patronus even now. 

She said she owned it to the both of them that she wasn’t as conceited and rule abiding as before and that they’d both taught her that she needed to let go sometimes and have fun, George obviously being there every step of the way.. 

Hermione felt she needed to mention the war, but did so briefly, stating out loud she didn’t feel ready to talk about it all, but that she knew one day she would have to. It was cathartic. But, for now, she focused on how listening to George sending her his love through Potterwatch and Fred’s jokes were one of the few things that made her smile during that year on the run. 

Finally, she had come full circle, her pyjama top wet from George’s tears and the pillow was from hers. The most painful thing she had to say had still not been said.  
“It was war, George. I imagined thousands of scenarios of us winning or them winning and who we would lose in each of them. I imagined all of us dying when we were on the run, I knew there was a possibility I wouldn't see you again, we said goodbye, remember? In our own way, we did and I knew it.” She paused, her breathing becoming more troubled. “I thought once or twice that maybe you would lose Fred or Fred would lose you...I see now, that even though people keep telling me i’m the brightest witch of my age, I was naive.” She spat out, with disgust. “I didn’t think the world would be so cruel, to either of you, love.” She finished, crying silently. It felt as if their tears knew no end, just like their pain.

George’s grip became almost painful as he heaved through sobs that broke her heart and ripped it out of her chest. She’d take Bellatrix’s Cruciatus a thousand times over this, If she could make George happy again. 

She soothed George as much as she could, rubbing his back and stroking his hair, like she knew he liked. He used to practically purr, as he lay his head on her lap asking for a rub. Fred used to laugh at them whenever he saw that. 

“If I Could take this pain away from you and put it inside me, i would Georgie. I love you, I love you so much it hurts sometimes.” She said into his ear, to which he trembled. To her surprise, George answered by weaving a hand through her hair in a surprisingly strong grip and pressing their lips together. She wanted to cry out at the sudden burst of happiness she felt at feeling those chapped but still soft and familiar lips moving slowly against hers. 

When they leaned back, both staring into each other’s eyes. Hermione also had a grip in George’s hair and kept combing through it the back of his hair . She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his. 

“I wish it had been me and not him. If you had him, you could survive anything.” She whispered, voicing her biggest fear, the one that kept waking her up. Again, George surprised her completely, when he quite violently ripped himself apart from her and stared at her with wide eyes. She could see them minutely, because of the moonlight coming in through the window. 

“You really think that?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper and hoarse from disuse.  
Hermione hesitated but nodded, not looking at him, those bloody tears wanting to spill over once more. Her eyes felt raw by this point. 

“You’re wrong.” George stated, suddenly. He was looking at her with new eyes, finally seeing how much his own grief was affecting her as it added to hers. “I’m split into three, there’s me in the middle, you’re on my left and Fred is-f-fuck, was-” 

Hermione interrupted him immediately shaking her head violently. “I think I know what you’re saying and no, Fred is still a part of you. You are who you are because of him, that won’t ever change.” She stated, punctuating each syllable carefully. George was the one looking startled at her intensity now. 

Finally he nodded. “You’re right.” He said in a small voice, shaking his head. “If the opposite had happened and you had died and he had lived, he would be exactly where we are having the exact same thought.” He paused and looked around as if searching for his words in their room. “Yes, the world is cruel. But it could have been much more cruel, so much more, Hermione. It could have taken both Fred and you from me and then, then I would be as good as dead.” His voice trembled but still managed to sound strong and so sure of itself, Hermione found her lower lip quivering and launched herself at George. 

“I love you, too, Princess. I’m sorry I went away for a while but i’ll t-try h-harder.” George said. 

Hermione worried her bottom lip and held his face between her hands as she shook her head. “It’s been a three weeks George, grief is a process and it has stages. You came back and you’re talking, but there’ll be days when you’ll be in your own world. But as time goes by, those days will become fewer and fewer. I have mine own grief to deal with, Fred and all the other’s, my p-parents.” She sighed. “I’m not always there as well, and I can barely sleep, i feel like there are snatchers around the corner-” She heaved a sigh. “What I mean is, everything that happened will follow us until we die, probably. But at least we can go through it together, me and you?” She asked. That’s all she wanted, she wanted for them to help each other, to be by his side. 

George nodded quickly. “Fred wouldn’t want me to spend the rest of my life in bed ignoring a pretty bird like you.” He said. With the tiniest hint of a smirk. 

They ended up laying back together, tangled in each other’s arms, cheeks dry, for the first time in the two hours since Hermione arrived in his room.  
In between kisses and whispers of love, George paused and said. “Whenever I'm ready...and if you’re ready as well, obviously...would you like to help me reopen the shop?” He asked. The mention of the shop made his eyes burn again, and his insides clench painfully. But he tried to breathe through it.  
Hermione smiled a smile so sweet he barely managed to keep himself from kissing her. It reminded him of their time before all hell broke loose. 

“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Weasley.” She responded, George merely smiled for a moment before going back to kissing his witch, with all the energy he could muster. He smirked inwardly when he saw her casting a nonverbal silencing spell. Maybe he could forget everything, if only for a moment and feel how good it felt to have Hermione back with him after a year a part. Fred would understand, right? 

They woke early despite their late night and Hermione convinced a quieter George to have a shower, very much needed after the activities that followed later into the night. She indulged him in scrubbing his hair for him and he did the same for her, enjoying the task and the feel of her soft hair running through his fingers. 

“George?” Hermione asked quietly, as they both got dressed in some of his clothes. Hermione wearing a jumper that reached almost halfway through her thighs and that she had to roll the sleeves of. It was her favorite. 

George had decided to wear a shirt that was Fred’s when he remembered Hermione’s words from yesterday. “Yes, love?” He asked, distracted.  
“You can say no, ok?” She paused and he nodded, focused now. “Well, could we go downstairs together? We could only grab something and come back.” She said quickly. 

George wanted to chuckle at her nervousness if it weren’t for his own. His mother had been so overbearing since everything. But then, a voice that sounded surprisingly like Fred told him to stop being an ass and go down there for ten minutes His family deserved it, and he agreed. After all, as much as sometimes it felt like he was half dead, his mother hadn’t lost two sons. He was still alive. He felt that constant ache, but then he looked at a nervous Hermione and he was reminded at that moment of something he had let slip from his mind. 

He had a plan when it came to him and Hermione, he had one since before they got together. They were going to have a future and he would make sure of it.  
Feeling more determined he gave her a strained smile and looped their hands together. “Let’s go.” He said. Hermione’s answering beam seemed to fill some of aching gap in him. 

When the couple made their way into the kitchen, practically the entire family was there and George tensed, wanting to hide behind Hermione. She held his hand tighter, smiling at everyone. 

There was a moment of delay, as everyone took in their wet hairs and Hermione’s clothes, but more importantly, the majorly red and puffy eyes they were sponsoring. Then it felt like something snapped. 

Mrs.Weasley merely smiled, though anyone could see the tears she was trying to contain her eyes. 

“Well, sit down!” Molly Weasley, exclaimed tone ass tern as ever. “You two are so thin those clothes are falling off you, I expect you to eat.” She said, almost glaring. 

Hermione smiled at her and pulled George towards two seats, looking at him she waited for a nod before they both sat down and ate. Hermione just a tad bit more, and George barely anything. But they ate and they listened to their family talking and Ron growling at Harry to keep his hand of his little sister. 

“Oi! You don’t tell George to keep off of Hermione!” Ginny said, pointing at the couple. 

Some people tensed, but Ron, being Ron, barely noticed. He only scoffed, grunting in his usual not a morning person self. 

“If anyone needs protection, it’s him. She’s been ogling him since third, she has.” He grumbled to himself. 

Everybody snickered at that and George turned to look at Hermione that semblance of a smirk on his face again. 

“Oh, I didn't know that, Princess.” He said. “Honestly, i’m honoured.” 

It was George and Fred thing that most people in the kitchen felt like smiling, which they did, and crying, which they held back. 

Hermione looked at George and quirked a brow. “Really, well then I must say I’m honoured too, Georgie.” Her smirk turned positively devious and George felt like cowering back, but held her stare defiantly. “You know, because of that day in my fourth year that I-mhm.” Hermione couldn’t finish her sentence because George covered her mouth and nodded furiously. 

“Oh, no idea what you’re talking about, love.” George stated, trying to keep from laughing. Hermione and him had been joking around after they’d started dating and George was tickling her and somehow she had ended up on his lap, being able to feel his hard on. Fourteen year old Hermione, who had only just had her first kiss had been quite surprised, to say the least. 

“Stop licking my hand, Mia, it doesn’t work if i’m quite well acquainted with it.” He stated to everyone’s great pleasure. Hermione, though, scowled at him and pinched him, hard, on the leg. 

George yelped and removed his hand from her lip. “You’re evil incarnate hiding as a beautiful maiden!” He said. Hermione rolled her eyes, huffing.  
The display was so unexpected, but so natural, that the family could only stare and appreciate the moment of happiness they were being allowed. 

George looked up and saw his family watching him and Hermione, all with smiles on their faces. He wanted to squirm, but this was important and George Weasley didn’t squirm even when glared at by Minerva Mcgonagall. 

Hermione had caught on, as she usually did, and he grabbed her hand and and tugged. 

“We’ll be in my room.” George stated, to which Molly nodded. Oh, Merlin, she had to wait until he left to cry!. 

Both of them turned to leave, and just as they would come out of the kitchen George made a point of stopping and looking over at Hermione. 

“We’ll be okay, won’t we?” He asked, loud and clear for his quiet family to hear. 

Hermione smiled a bit and nodded. “We will, Forge.” She said. 

George’s eyes filled with tears but he kept nodding as he walked back up with her. 

As soon as they turned around the corner. Mrs. Weasley hunched over a bit, crying quietly. Arthur quick to hug her as his eyes glistened. 

“We’ll have to thank Hermione, later on.” Ginny said. Tears in her eyes, for this was the first time in almost three weeks she had hoped that she wouldn’t lose two brothers to the war. 

“We sure will.” Charlie said, nodding. As everyone else did the same. 

And they were okay. Sometimes.

In the beginning, George went back to not leaving his room for a while. But this time, Hermione was there. They’d lie alone in silence holding each other, at first. The first topic they felt comfortable with was old and silly memories of Hogwarts.

Soon, Hermione managed to make George come down at least for Breakfast everyday. People also started being allowed into their safe haven, Ginny coming over to discuss Quidditch, Bill and Fleur talked about their work and married life, Charlie, who was still on leave, told stories about Dragons. 

Ron and Harry were there often, Ron playing chess with George or Harry as Hermione read. The weight Harry carried after the war was especially visible, and him and Hermione would disappear sometimes and both would come back with puffy eyes, but looking decidedly lighter. 

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” George asked Ron over a game, afterHermione and Harry had left only moments ago. 

“That she is.” Ron agreed. “Would’ve been dead without her years ago.” 

“I know the feeling.” George said, quietly. 

Ron looked up, then. “You know I love you, don’t you, George?” He sounded so mature in that moment that George almost had to do a double take. 

“I sure do, Ronniekins. Right back at you.” George said, trying to be light about it. 

Ron snorted, and they went back to the game. 

The worst nights for them were when Hermione woke up screaming and writhing, thinking she was under the Cruciatus. George always woke up to her screams thinking the war was still happening for those first three seconds. She’d tried to convince him to let her sleep somewhere else. But he’d shut her up every time, remembering their promise of doing this together. 

Hermione tried to go out almost everyday after a month or so either to grab a new book, or go to the market for Mrs. Weasley, because it helped her see that the world was moving on and that there was no war anymore. George told her not to worry and just go. She even met up with Luna, Neville and the rest of the old crowd when she could. 

By that point, when the DA was socializing again, three months had gone by and George was finally hanging out around the house more often. So, chats and games and such weren’t secluded only to his room (now officially declared his and Hermione’s by a pleased Mrs.Weasley). Whenever something made him remember Fred in an unpleasant way or the war, he would hold Hermione’s hand a bit tighter. 

If necessary they’d go back up and she’d read out loud, like she usually did when they were alone now. 

One day, someone appeared with a broken Weasley Wizarding Wheezes product and George felt like crying again, for the first time since he’d seen a picture of him and Fred in their first year at Hogwarts, two week before.

Then he’s asked for whichever brother it was to hand it over and he fixed it and it felt great. After that day, his Mother and Hermione started asking for help whenever they needed a potion done and he suspected foul play, but couldn’t bring himself to care because doing something felt good. 

Four months after, Hermione come home just past lunch and said she bumped into Lee Jordan, who asked if he could come visit George. George grumbled that they talked as if he was impaired (which he was away), but under Hermione’s quirked eyebrow and stare he relented and wasn’t disappointed. 

Lee arrived three days later and they talked while they ate, sitting down on the floor like they did when they were kids. They talked for an hour or two about life and he liked it. 

They had a moment of silence and Lee said in a quiet voice. 

“I missed you, mate.” Lee, said, in a surprisingly heartfelt voice. “I miss him.” He said, now growing a bit choked up. 

George felt his throat clog up. “I miss Fred, too. It helps talking about him and stuff, Hermione makes sure I do that.”

“She’s the one who’s helping you keep it together, i bet?” 

“You have no idea, Lee.” George sighed. 

“You know, Fred once told me that it was scary how good you two were together. We all saw it coming, what with the staring longingly and each other and all. But Fred said he bet  
he was going to be your best man not too soon after she graduated.” Lee said. 

George sighed heavily. “He might still be right. I figure I'll ask her when I have my shit together.” 

They were both teary eyed at this point so they decided to screw it and jump right in, they delved into memories upon memories of Fred, both openly laughing and crying.

In the end, George said. “Wherever he is, I just hope i make him proud.” 

Lee huffed, exasperated. “Mate, as long as you’re happy, he’ll be proud.” 

It was amazing to talk to someone who knew Fred in the way Lee did, differently from his brothers and Hermione.

They knew him as family but Lee was their best friend.

Angelina and Katie came together a week after Lee and they wrangled him into his first game of quidditch post war. Harry, Ginny and Ron joined and it was a beautiful moment. Looking at his friends, the sunset behind them and see his witch cheering him on as she watched, a book open on her lap, George felt happy.

Most importantly, in that moment he felt as if Fred was right there with him, like Hermione always said. 

Six months after George and Hermione decided she needed outside help, to deal with her nightmares. His parents and both Ron and Harry agreed, faces grim. 

“It didn’t happen to me and I get nightmares, mate. It was the worst thing I've ever heard.” Ron declared, with a shudder. He kissed his Mother’s cheek and thanked her for killing Bellatrix after that. His mother, the badass that she was, simply said: “You’re welcome, dear. No one hurts my children.” He was proud to be her son, that’s for sure. 

Seven months after he finally started leaving the house with Hermione or one of his family members. First to places like the Market, which were all close by. Eight months into his life sans his twin, he stepped into his and Fred’s shop for the first time since Fred had died with Hermione and Lee and proceeded to have a panic attack so bad he thought he would die. Hermione, who was always prepared, gave him a calming draught and both her and Lee helped him calm down. 

Each time he went there Hermione gave a calming draught, but made the dosage smaller each time as he got used to being there again. They were able to open for business and two months after he first stepped into the shop and both him and Hermione moved to his old apartment.

Like everything had been since he lost Fred, living there without him had been hard at first, but gaining his independence back again and being to live alone with his girlfriend was invaluable. 

Hermione told him, whenever he felt guilt over having such a hard time, that George was quite literally learning how to live without a third of his soul, if what he’d told her that first night they talked months ago was true and he thought he couldn’t have said it better. 

Without Fred he was actually impaired, in way. 

Coming up with ideas and making products again, making other people happy was heavenly and he felt back in his element once more. Whenever he saw a kid laughing with his friends at his shop it filled a bit of the hole in his soul. 

This was why Fred and him had opened the store to begin with, to make people happy and give them hope.

During a Sunday family dinner in September 1999, George paused while he ate and looked around at his family, comparing them to this time last year.

Everyone looked like they were caring far less on their shoulders, Ginny and Harry were living together and very much in love. 

The-boy-who-conquered after seeing how much it helped Hermione with her nightmare had put his pride aside and had been seeing a muggle therapist, who happened to be a Squib. Hermione’s mind healer had recommended her, and the improvement in Harry was surprising. He carried himself differently now, more confidently, and was quicker to laugh. 

Assessment made, George nodded to himself and decided it was time, catching his mother knowing eye and exchanging a smile. 

So, for his witch’s birthday, George surprised her with his and Fred’s, for his brother had helped George with this particular feat before the war, most impressive fireworks yet that asked her to marry him, producing a ring himself. 

Hermione Granger, the love of his life, gave a very uncharacteristic squeal and launched herself at him, saying “yes” over and over as she hugged him.

Six months later, a year and seven months after he lost Fred, they had a small wedding and reception. Both of them thanked Fred for his extensive matchmaking in their vows. 

A year after that, they welcomed their first son.

Fred Weasley II. 

In his eyes and in his smile George saw his twin and knew that, wherever he might be, he was proud.


End file.
